


Tangles

by marvelandimagine



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anatoly is soft, Anatoly just wants to be a good boyfriend, F/M, Fluff, Russian Mafia, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelandimagine/pseuds/marvelandimagine
Summary: Sentence starter: “Shh, stop fussing. I’m braiding your hair.”Pairing: Anatoly Ranskahov x reader
Relationships: Anatoly Ranskahov/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Tangles

_This prompt was cute and then I made it sad #CLASSIC_

You're laying on your stomach in bed, immersed in your latest library rental, when you feel Anatoly shift behind you, moving close enough for his hand to stroke your hair softly. He keeps going for a few more seconds and you sigh at the touch, momentarily drawn away from your book in the lull of his tenderness.

Then, you feel a sharp tug at the top of your head.

“Ow! Tolya, the hell are you doing?”

“Shh, stop fussing, солнышко. I am braiding your hair.”

You laugh, baffled by this new development from the Russian prince of thieves.

“You can braid? Did you need some kind of Boy Scouts badge?” You stop. “Wait, does Russia even have Boy Scouts?”

Anatoly chuckles, dropping down to brush his lips against your hair before continuing to work his hands through it. 

“Funny girl. As you would say, that is a hard no.”

“So where’d you learn how to do this?”

Anatoly continues to braid while he remains silent for a few seconds, his response barely above a murmur:

“We had a sister.”

You try to pivot around to face him but he gently turns you back to your original position, your long tresses still in his hands.

“What ... had?”

Anatoly sighs.

“Katina. Our mother had her early, only a few pounds. She got better after, but her immune system was weak. Years later, there was a sickness that spread through the city. We all had it, but her body was not strong enough to fight.”

Your heart sinks, and you’re flooded with sadness for your boyfriend’s loss, for Vladimir’s, for their sibling being ripped away.

“I’m so sorry. How old were you all?”

“She was seven ... so, I was 11 and Volodya, 13.” His voice is flat, but it grows warmer as he strokes the back of your neck. “All done, go see.”

You sit up and leave the mattress, walking across your room to your full-length mirror. You turn to the side to admire Anatoly’s work, pleasantly surprised by the neat Dutch braid.

You slow clap and you can see him smile in the mirror. You bound back to bed, this time landing in his lap to meet his eager mouth with yours.

“Thank you,” you say, your forehead still on his.

He hums in response and you lean back to meet his gaze, taking his hands in your to run your thumbs over the scarred, tattooed flesh. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something but stops, brow furrowing as he shrugs.

“Was not relevant until now.”

You shake your head, your heart aching once more for this man you love, who you know full well has never had the privilege to process the extent of his pain and trauma and grief. Someone just starting to learn how to accept your comfort in it. Pain just was, a steady pulse of the undercurrent in his life.

“It is relevant because I love you and want to know all of you, Tolya. You had a sister, someone you loved, die as a kid when you were just a kid. That kind of thing leaves an impact.”

His eyes dart away from you, his face setting in a hard line; what you know from experience is how he reacts in not knowing how to respond.

You graze his jaw with your lips, settling yourself onto his chest. His heartbeat echoes in your ear, seemingly matching the pace of the circles he begins tracing on your arm.

“I’m not asking to know everything about your past, Toly. I just want to know about things that mattered. And I know you like learning about my life because you’ve said you do, so how would you feel if I suddenly dropped something on you after all these months together like that my mom died of some rare disease or that I had a twin living in LA?”

“I would say I have wanted to visit LA.”

“Tolya,” you groan, scooching yourself off him to lay on your side so you can fully see the smirk he’s struggling to contain. “Work with me here.”

“I know, I know,” he replies, turning to his side to meet your exasperated gaze. With one hand propping his head up, his free hand shifts to rest on your hip. “You make good point, ангел.”

His eyes close before he exhales deeply, hesitating slightly before the words come pouring out.

“Is not that I want to keep secrets or that I do not trust you, I do. But there is not much I wish to remember from home. And even things I do miss, they are still things I cannot get back. I know I will not see Москва again, so, I do not focus much on it.”

His hand shifts from resting on your hip to cupping your jaw, his rough skin such a contrast to his voice.

“What I have now with you, this is what matters most to me, what I think about. Making sure you are happy and safe and I protect our future. But I will try more to not keep bigger things from you. And I can answer what you ask. хорошо?”

You smile.

“хорошо. And I may not know everything, but I know I’m so glad I met you.”

Anatoly smiles back and presses his lips to yours, drawing back three times in quick succession and making you laugh, each subsequent kiss punctuated briefly:

“Я.”

“тебя.”

“люблю.”

And you know he means it.


End file.
